


Take Them Off

by PrincessOfTheDark (FantasyPrincess)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley’s Glasses, Drunk Kissing, Gen, Glasses Dorks, Horny Aziraphale, Ineffable Dorks, M/M, No Betas We Fall Like Crowley, Sex, Time travelling Glasses, Weaponized Fluff, Wicked Crowley, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2020-08-11 10:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyPrincess/pseuds/PrincessOfTheDark
Summary: A collection of vignettes where Crowley’s glasses figure prominently.**Not all chapters will be smutty.I’ll do my best to point out the smut-ish ones in the notes for you.





	1. Join Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this one, but a very fluffy tuck-in scene

The room swam a little, as he sat there trying to remember exactly how many drinks he’d had. He’d lost count somewhere around the main course and, never one to stop the revelry, merely kept on right through dessert and coffee.

It wasn’t his fault if the wine was delicious though, was it? How many bottles had they shared together?

Shaking his head a little, Aziraphale soon realized he was weightless. He was being carried.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Truth be told, he rather enjoyed being carried, feeling safe and settled against his oldest friend, the one person he trusted to carry him.

"When did we get back to your flat?"

“Just a few minutes ago. Bit of a wasted miracle, but I hope you don’t mind, seemed easier.” Crowley offered. His hair a tangle from the wind.

Crowley was also drunk, though obviously not as drunk as Aziraphale, who’s head lolled onto his shoulder with strange abandon. Crowley gave a contented sigh when it happened.

Finally, he was laid gently to rest on soft pillows and a downy bed.

“It’s lovely, thank –” he said, glancing up at Crowley.

“Best not actually say the words, Angel,” Crowley smiled, his features all cheekbones and glasses. “But of course, you’re welcome.”

He sunk down, immediately luxuriating in the warmth. It was almost heated, which was obscene but wouldn’t have put it past Crowley. Moaning and stretching, until finally cuddling around a blanket and breathing in the lavender scent of evening, he gazed up at the other person.

Time seemed to stop as they stared at one another. Eventually, Aziraphale rolled closer to him and took his hand. “I’d rather – That is the say – Would you?”

Crowley cocked his head, and smirked a little as the Angel fumbled for the words.

“I don’t sleep well alone.” Crowley seemed to nod infinitesimally. He snapped and nearly sat down in a nearby lounge that had just appeared when, Aziraphale seemed to wring his hand again. “Not what I mean…”

Suddenly, Aziraphale was overtaking by a giddy smile. “Join me here?”

Crowley’s eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? I don’t think your side would like that very well, Angel.”

“Could you imagine?” Aziraphale giggled, imagining Gabrielle’s revulsion, and it made him all the more energetic to create more room. “Please, I’d love the company.”

Crowley shrugged, and blithely moved in next to him with the grace of someone who’d been a snake for time immemorial.

For a brief moment, they adjusted their positions, finding what was comfortable. Eventually they settled on Crowley offering his arm for Aziraphale to rest on, curling himself around the other, his fingers brushing his shoulder, and Aziraphale looking up at the ceiling, quite the picture of contentment.

Well, nearly content. Aziraphale looked over at Crowley, a knot of concern between his eyebrows. “Don’t you take your glasses off when-?”

Crowley grinned at him wickedly. “When I what, Angel?”

Aziraphale gave him a very scrunched up frown. “When – You - Sleep?” he said poignantly, the drink still making the room swim, but he wasn’t about to let Crowley have this one. Besides, it was probably dark enough that the Demon didn’t see his face turn pink.

Probably.

Crowley laid there, perfectly at east on his side, his face very close to Aziraphale, and smirked. “Is it off putting?” Crowley moved the glasses down his nose to look at him with those yellow eyes, wrist lightly grazing Aziraphale’s cheek.

The dare was plain on his face. Aziraphale’s mouth was suddenly dry and he licked his lips. “No, no – I’m quite fond of them. They suit you, always have.”

Crowley gave a curt little nod and then splayed a hand on Aziraphale’s chest, giving a satisfied grunt of approval when the he gasped. “’Night, Angel,” he said yawning.

Aziraphale found he was suddenly very awake. He blinked at the ceiling as the feel of the Demon’s hand spread warmly throughout his body, laying like the most perfect weight.


	2. Your Nails are Sharp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley wants Aziraphale to wash his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly fluff, but a bit of hair-pull play.

“What if I just –”

“Leave it.”

“But I could do this easier –”

“Angel.”

“Easier if you removed them.”

“Aziraphale!”

“Alright, leave the blasted things on then. Down you go!” Aziraphale puffed up his cheeks and sighed.

Crowley sat, smirking for all the world like the cat who caught a canary, his glasses firmly in place. He leaned his head back over the sink. “You’ll do fine, I’m not worried,” he purred.

“Of course, you’re not,” he grumbled, turning on the water and testing the temperature. Crowley got comfortable, and folded his hands over his chest, giving a pleasant little sound, that damnable smirk still in his face. “Little further back, good.”

Aziraphale carded his fingers briefly through Crowley’s hair. His blustering left him fairly quick once he felt how soft Crowley's hair was and let out a soft, “oh.” He'd always assumed it be thick and coarse. What it was, was fine, and nearly lighter than air.

This was the first time that Aziraphale could remember washing someone's hair, well anyone’s hair. Crowley had barged in that morning complaining about the building complex needing to shut off the water for some renovation or other, and he’d been right in the middle of a wash, so his hair was still a mess.

_I’ve already done the rest, so I don’t want to take a real shower. That is, uh, I don’t really think, not that it would, to impose, but that’d be too – _

_Of course, whatever makes you comfortable, my dear. But so, just here, in the kitchenette then? – _

_Sounds splendid Angel! – _and proceeded to beg Aziraphale to wash his hair for him.

Crowley made encouraging sounds while Aziraphale rinsed through, getting it all wet and heavy. The ginger color turned a lovely dark, close to that of red velvet cake. Aziraphale felt his mouth water for something sweet, but he kept it together. “There. I’ve got a few different scents, if you’d like to try them?”

Crowley arched an eyebrow, “What’cha got?”

“I’ve got a mint on that’s quite good; then there’s got eucalyptus and balsam, and I believe one that’s faintly of lilac and cucumber.” Crowley’s mouth twitched and Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “There was a sale on -" and Crowley grinned showing teeth. "Which would you like?”

Crowley pondered for a moment, giving a low groan as Aziraphale kept massaging his scalp. “The mint one sounded nice," he said. "Are the conditioners matching?"

"Yes."

"Mint then, definitely."

Aziraphale kept rinsing his hair for a few more seconds and then took a small towel to get some of the excess water off. He paused, considering, then said "You are to tell me if I hurt you, understood?"

Crowley crossed his heart.

"Good." Aziraphale took a generous helping of the shampoo and began working it into Crowley's scalp.

The angle wasn't quite right, which meant Aziraphale couldn't get around as easily as he’d hoped to lather everything the right way. He found himself leaning further and further over Crowley, to get at the hairs close to his neck. His own reflection stared back at him from Crowley’s glasses. He cleared his throat. “This is exactly why I wanted you to have your glasses off. How do I know you’re not laughing at me under there?”

“I’m not laughing, Angel.”

“Laughing at me with your eyes.”

“My eyes are closed, demon’s promise.” Crowley shifted in the chair just a little before adding, “How does one do that exactly?”

Aziraphale click his tongue. “Never mind.” He rinsed out all the soap and made sure Crowley was clean before adding in the conditioner. “Right, last round.”

“Oh!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Your nails are sharp.”

“Are they? Sorry, my dear, I hadn’t thought.”

Aziraphale pulled back a little but Crowley shook his head. “No, it’s fine. It was unexpected. Please continue.”

Aziraphale nodded and went back to work, more carefully that before. He noticed that Crowley was leaning into his touch and making small gasps into Aziraphale’s arms when they grazed his cheeks. “Are you alright?”

Crowley gave a pleasant little “mm” sound and nodded. “Perfectly at peace, Angel. Don’t stop.”

Aziraphale looked at the wall, puzzled, but shook his head. Crowley was making louder sounds now. “Listen, I know you said you were ok but – “

“Pull it.” Crowley was panting now.

“What?”

“My hair, Angel, please just pull it, give ussss a quick tug, eh?”

Aziraphale froze his movements entirely. His face took on a comical series of emotions before settling on a defiant smirk. “My dear, if this is what you’d wanted this whole time,” and he massaged Crowley’s scalp a little more slowly. “Then why didn’t you say anything?” He gathered up Crowley’s lovely hair and gave it a yank, not too hard tho, just enough to make Crowley hiss. “Better?” Crowley groaned beautifully and Aziraphale relented. “Let me rinse you clean, my dear.”

He was thorough, and didn’t miss a spot. As a final gesture, he threw in an extra hair tug just for fun which made Crowley cross and uncross his legs.

“Tea?”

Crowley stood, a little less gracefully than normal. “Mm, thank you, Angel, I – yes, tea, tea would be lovely.”


	3. Nngk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steamy chapter ahead, folks!

"Hello Angel," came the purr. 

Aziraphale was sitting, as requested, at the edge of Crowley's bed, with a blindfold on.

"H-hello, my dear," he said, stammering.

Crowley was all around him, moving ever so silently. He was on his left one moment, and his right the next. It was impossible to tell where he'd be. This was great fun, Aziraphale thought. He could feel the thrill in his body all the way down his spine.

"Well - Angel. Now that I have," and then suddenly there was a palm down Aziraphale's cheek, "your attention, what would you like me to do?"

"I don't, that is, I -"

"Come on, Angel," and he drew out the pet name, spoken along the Principality's neck hairs, creating goose flesh in his wake.

"... This game is enticing."

"Growing impatient are we?"

Aziraphale huffed. He was a very patient angel, one of the best, but Crowley was right. This was a lot to handle. Not only was he to keep his corporeal eyes shut, but he also couldn't open his ethereal eyes, and, while titillating, it was a bit frustrating.

Finally, he broke. "I want a kiss, you serpent."

He was immediately rewarded with Crowley's lips pressed to his own. It was amazing. Honey, and fire, and chocolate, and roast duck, and everything all at once. It was a very good kiss, and Aziraphale sat reeling from it for a moment. 

"Anything else?"

Aziraphale tried twice to say something. He tried to gently touch and hide the bulge in his crotch out of habit.

"I see," Crowley purred again. "Can I help you there? I'd like to."

Without warning, Crowley slipped his hands down Aziraphales tailored dressings till he found him there, hot and squirming. He seemed to jump a little from the squeeze.

"Do you like this? I can make it better..."

Aziraphale moaned something.

"What was that?"

"Mm-please, yes."

A soft chuckle and then Aziraphale could feel wind, his pants having been snapped away, and before he could protest, Crowleys long wet tongue and hot mouth was answering his unasked question.

This was different from the kiss, a very lovely gift indeed.

Aziraphale wasn't sure if he should reach down and touch Crowley, as if touching him would break some kind of spell. Eventually, he couldn't help it, and when he finally put a hand in Crowley's hair, Crowley seemed to alight with energy and doubled his efforts. Aziraphale blurted out a "Good lord," and did his best to hang on. He was touching him all over now, wherever he could reach, shoulders, back, his hair again.

He didn't have long and Aziraphale did his best to tell Crowley with gestures and moans, but finally he broke there too. Crowley didn't stop, bless him. He kept on. Right up until Aziraphale was a boneless mess of water, sagging in the chair, his eyes, all of them, still firmly closed.

"Didn't think you'd approve of that."

Aziraphale tried several times to answer, and finally "D-didn't know it was on the menu."

"Well, there's more where that came from. Trust me?"

"A-Ahl-ways" he slurred.

With very little warning, Crowley pushed him back onto the bed while also making sure to cup his head and make sure he didn't hurt anything.

Suddenly, they were both lying down, the demon on top, and Aziraphale in darkness, breathing heavily. "What are you doing to do?"

"I've blown your body, now I want to blow your mind."

"Oh, do you promise?" Aziraphale whined. So much passion, he couldn't wait. He felt more air, in fact, he couldn't feel a stitch of clothing on him anymore, but could still feel those tight jeans on Crowley. "Aren't you going to be naked too?"

"Do you want me to be?"

Aziraphale swallowed. "I want you to be comfortable."

"And, I want you," he said, coming in for another earth shattering kiss.

Aziraphale was unsure how long it took him to recover this time, but when he felt Crowley between his legs, he arched upwards giving him as much access as he was able. His plump legs went far above his head and he found himself nestled there, a perfect fit.

Crowley rode him, mercilessly. The bed made all sorts of sounds he didn't know it could. And then there was Aziraphale, groaning, and reaching for him, and making other sounds he thought far too heavenly for his ears, surely he would die on the spot. _Can't have that,_ he thought. _Not till this bastard cums._

Aziraphale was in the cosmos, he was so happy. He was breathing sharply, and, with an apologetic grunt, he wanted to look into Crowley's eyes as he came, he lifted the blindfold.

Crowley was looking down at him, smirking, his body doing a rather impressive roll that seemed to hit exactly where Aziraphale needed... But he was not only fully clothed. Somewhere in the heat of it all, Aziraphale closed his eyes again, as the waves began in this stomach. He begged and pleaded, ramming himself down onto Crowley, deeper, deeper, just there, that was it!

He looked up at his own sweaty reflection in those damned glasses and gave an exasperated sigh, as another wave crashed down on both of them. In a fit, he grabbed at Crowley's lapels and kissed him hard. "Cheeky," he gasped.

"Don't you like this angle?" Crowley asked, rolling again in the opposite direction.

"Get those... bloody things... off your face, you... you..."

Crowley cackled. 

"Damn, that's it, don't stop!"

Crowley picked up the pace and Aziraphale came twice.

When they both collapsed onto Crowley's bed, Aziraphale deftly smacked the glasses off his face. Crowley only kept laughing, and hugging him tighter, kissing him all over his hot face.


End file.
